


I Won't Let You Be the One I Live Without

by Under_the_red_beenie



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Enchanted Forest, Child Abuse, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Family Loss, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Injured Peter Parker, Injury Recovery, M/M, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Child Abuse, Past Sexual Abuse, Peter Parker Gets a Hug, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Precious Peter Parker, Protective Bucky Barnes, Protective Steve Rogers, Supernatural Elements, Tags May Change, The Enchanted Forest, because he's the godfather, bucky adopts peter, for plot reasons, inaccurate (hopefully) depiction of foster care and social workers, skip westcott is the warning he's evil and gross
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-09-06 11:59:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16832203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Under_the_red_beenie/pseuds/Under_the_red_beenie
Summary: Peter needs to find his godfather, in order to do that he has to cross a mountain, easy right? Wrong turns out the forest isn't call the "Forest of Evil" by locals for nothing. However, Peter is out of options and most cross the forest in order to find his last chance of family, love, and safety. Plus its what May wanted. Well maybe she wouldn't have wanted him to almost be eaten by a terrifying monster but once he recovers from his injuries he will just have to convince the grumpy forest hermit to help him cross the rest of the forest. Until then, Bucky isn't so bad...Bucky just wants to spend his (cursed) immortal life with Steve in peace. Sadly, Peter comes in a ruins that and now he's left caring for the kid until he recovers, oh well at least peter is kinda helpful and totally sweet and all the creatures love him. And yeah, okay, Peter reminds Bucky a lot of May, who he misses terribly.Basically, Bucky and Steve are immortal caretakers to a sentient and enchanted forest (plus all the creatures supernatural or not that call it home) and Peter is just looking for a home with the person his aunt and uncle trusted most. Shenanigans ensue.





	I Won't Let You Be the One I Live Without

**Author's Note:**

> Author Note: Heads up as the tags said I tagged Rape/non con and underage, there will not be any scenes where that is graphically depicted, Peter experienced some level of abuse by Skip Westcott in that nature but what that was specifically will never be addressed. He will admit he was hurt to Bucky later and it will be very heavily implied/referenced but I won't be writing it specifically. Special thanks goes out to my beta (she's the Best™), Pansley and "Astronomy in Reverse" because Pans wrote an AMAZING fic and then set up a discord in order for people to talk about it (without those brilliant minds this fic would never have been created) and of course to all my lovely friends on said discord :) 
> 
> Warnings for the chapter: Implied and referenced child abuse, Runaway teen, inaccurate depictions of social workers and foster homes (I Hope At Least), semi graphic depictions of a gross monster, scary monster hunting peter

Chapter 1: Into the Unknown

Peter was starting to think this was a bad idea, but really what options did he have? It was either continue trudging through the snow until he got the other side of the mountain, arrive at Gloomvalley, find Jimmy and beg him to take him in, or head back the way he came and wait in the bus station of the town he’d arrived in this morning, find a bench, and wait until he was found by them.

‘There is absolutely no way I’ll go back there, I would rather freeze to death crossing this mountain.’

It had been beyond tough since Peter had lost May and Ben. It would have been tough either way, losing everything, his entire world, but to then be fosited off onto literally the absolute worst people in the world kinda sealed the deal on this being the worst thing to ever happen to Peter. He could remember that day very clearly, begging his social worker to “just listen please, this wasn’t right and this wasn’t what his Aunt May and Uncle Ben had wanted”. No matter how much he begged, however, it hadn’t made much difference as his social worker, Jeanette (a robust blonde women with watery eyes, he remembered because she’s practically cried when she rolled them which was often) had cut him to the quick with a frustrated huff.  
“For the absolute last time Mr. Parker despite your insistence there is no one to take care you.  
And before you start again I’m painfully aware of this supposed godfather that was mentioned in your Aunt and Uncle’s will as well as the numerous, numerous, times you’ve mentioned him since I have taken your case! I have attempted and inquired about him and guess what? There’s no evidence to suggests he exists!  
“I have sent people to look for him in that backwoods town your Aunt came from and have heard absolutely no word from anyone! Not on peep! Imagine how frustrated I am at the moment!”

At this pointed she’d paused to take a huge gulp of air and Peter would have loved to point out how frustrated he was, that he’d told them where to look for Jimmy and that he had to be there and that it wasn’t his fault they seemed too incompetent to find him. He would have loved to scream in Jeanette’s face about how horrible she was, like she did to him everytime he opened his mouth. He didn’t deserve to be treated like this, and if this was such an inconvenience to her maybe she should consider not working with kids that needed someone to give a crap. He held his tongue on all of that and tried again:  
“Please Ms. Jeanette, I know Jimmy exists, he has too, I get that this is frustrating but please I don’t belong in a foster home. I belong with my godfather.”

“Forgive me,” She said in a snide nasually way with smile of someone clearly not actually asking for forgiveness, “but as the adult here that works in the profession of finding homes for children, I think I know what you need better than you, a sixteen year old child. And furthermore, even if we did find your...godfather, he’d have to be approved as an acceptable guardian before he was allowed to claim you. This means that even if this is not permanent you will be assigned a foster family to take care of you! So if you will please just for once shut up and behave, I can finally be rid of you until something changes.”  
Peter had never been told to shut up by an adult like that before, and he was completely unaware of how used to it he was going to become in the next few weeks, but at that moment being belittled and insulted and told how worthless and uncared for he truly was now, the fight drained out of him. He’d done his absolute best not to cry in front of her up until this point, in fact he had been trying to hold it together since the fateful night the police had showed up at his door and informed him he could stop waiting anxiously for his Aunt and Uncle to come home because they were in fact dead and never coming home again.  
That night the shock caused him to fall to the floor, and the officer, a kind man named Tony, had held him close and reassured him that it would be alright but that he needed to come with him down to the station. It was there that he’d met Jeanette, and she had introduced herself as a social worker that didn’t “have time for tears Mr. Parker, so if you’d refrain.” Peter should have known then how miserable she was going to make him, but he’d foolishly hoped that that might mean she was direct and to the point and would do the right thing and get him to his godfather promptly. Tony, however, had look quite upset on his behalf and had scolded her then and there:

“Excuse me?! This boy just lost his family―he has every right to be upset and that includes tears!”

Peter couldn’t remember the rest of that night, it had all been a blur afterwards, but he remembers as badly as he had wanted to cry he hadn’t. But walking up to his foster father’s front door, Peter had held back tears, choking down his sobs. Crying wasn’t going to do him any good―especially not now. Plus he didn’t want that awful woman to feel like she’d won.  
Alexander Pierce had opened the door before Jeanette had even knocked. He’d smiled charmingly and Jeanette had giggled as he paid her a compliment before roughly shoving Peter toward the man. Peter entered the home, hoping that it wouldn’t be a long stay and that perhaps this Alexander Pierce would help him, would work with him, and that this could be a situation that worked for the best. His hopes were dashed as quickly as it took for Pierce to shut the door while Jeanette waddled her way back to the car.  
That evening Peter had learned the rules and what would happen if he broke them by example. Peter learned that night there was a worse person than Jeanette, and it was Alexander Pierce. The morning after that Peter was proven wrong again when he met Skip Westcott. Who Skip was to Pierce, Peter never found out, but it didn’t matter anyway. Pierce was mean and he hit hard, but Skip was deceptively kind until he did something much, much worse. Peter would take the beatings over Skip anyday.  
He wasn’t allowed to call anyone or leave the house, and he learned quickly in the first couple weeks that escape would be difficult. Finally, after months of planning and suffering, Peter saw an opening and he ran for it. He didn’t run to Jeanette, and while it had been tempting, he didn’t run to Tony: he wasn’t sure who he could trust and running to Tony might end up with him being brought back to his tormentors. He couldn’t risk that―he couldn’t because he didn’t think he’d be able to escape again if they got him. So he ran and ran until he ended up at the edge of the forest in the middle of winter in the dead of night. If he could just get to Jimmy, his godfather would make sure he never went back there.

He had to believe that, just like he just needed to cross the mountain and not freeze to death in the process. 

Freezing was very much an option at this point―he was pretty underprepared for the weather in his current attire. The snow had soaked his jeans, so not only did his legs feel cold and tingly, but also horrifically itchy. His converse had done nothing to save his toes from feeling so cold they didn’t even feel like his toes anymore―instead they were so numb they started to feel like someone else’s. His entire body was starting to burn, and the snow falling was starting to feel rough and course and painful, and he wasn’t real sure how much longer he would be able to walk.  
The crunch of snow startled Peter out of this thoughts, and he turned around sharply. He knew he’d heard a second pair of footsteps; he’d been hearing them for quite a while now but whenever he stopped, they did too, and whenever he turned there was nothing there. He was starting to think he was going crazy. He turned back and started to continue walking, briefly wondering what kind of wild animals lived in this forest.  
He remembered Ben had once told him that scientists and researchers had never been able to properly record anything about this forest: equipment would stop working and researchers disappeared. The locals in the towns surrounding labelled it the “Forest of Evil” and refused to journey too far in, sticking only to the outskirts. The unmistakable crunch of snow echoed from behind, and this time when Peter twirled around he saw it. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted movement, and Peter stood frozen, eyes wide in horror as he stared at a tree maybe 50 feet back. There was something behind the tree, something with long clawed fingers: he knew this because when he turned he’d done so just in time to watch it pull its hand off the trunk where it’d been resting.  
Peter was staring in horror at long claw marks left there when he heard it growl. It was a low raspy kind of growl and not like any animal he’d ever heard before. Instinct took over and Peter broke out in a run. He could it give chase, but it sounded fast and it felt like whatever this was it was playing with him. But Peter kept running deeper and deeper into the woods.  
Suddenly, he heard a shout and turned and saw a boy beckoning him into the brush to his right. Peter was unsure of following the guidance of a boy this deep in the forest in the middle of the night, but he heard a crash behind him and knew the beast was closing in. Quickly as he could, he made his way over to the boy―until he disappeared from view. Peter didn’t have time to worry what had become of the boy as he suddenly slipped on a patch of ice and fell tumbling down a hill and landed hard in a small ravine. He had to bite down on the scream as shots of pain raced through his leg and his ribcage. Peter did his best to move behind a bush as he heard the shuffling of something moving through the trees. He would have let out a scream had a hand not clamped around his mouth as a voice whispered in his ear.

“That looked like a really rough fall, sorry about that, but I think I’ve distracted Rumlow for a little bit.”  
It was the heavy set boy from before, he was smiling amicably and, had he not been terrified and unable to speak, he’d probably ask how on earth he could be comfortable in the plaid button up tee shirt and shorts he was in. The boy continued speaking after he took his handoff of Peter’s mouth.  
“You’ll want to be really quiet for just a moment, or Rumlow will hear you, but only a moment because help is on the way Peter.”

“How―how do you know my name? And who is Rumlow? “ Peter asked frantically.

“What is Rumlow is a better question. He used to be a person but not anymore; now he’s, well, he’s kinda a flesh eating monster hell bent on devouring anyone he comes across,”

The boy paused listening as the crashing and crunching of trees and snow became less distant.

“As for how I know you, well we’ve known who you were since you stepped foot in these woods.”  
Peter wanted to ask so many more questions, but a shriek suddenly broke through the forest, it sounded neither human nor beast, and it was close. Peter turned to ask the other boy what they should do only to find himself alone. Where the boy had gone he didn’t know; perhaps he’d been in the cold too long and he’d imagine the boy completely. If that was the case, he wished the hallucination would come back. He didn’t want to be alone and in the dark and waiting for some unknown monster to come upon in. Even if he could stand and move with his injuries he wouldn’t get far, and he was getting tired and numb now.  
Up ahead something turned the bend and, despite the hypothermia setting in, Peter became suddenly aware that he was staring his gruesome death in the face. It was tall and dark, its long clawed fingers twitching and spasming as it stalked toward him. Its neck and head were doing something similar to the claws, and Peter could hear cracks as its neck bent in unnatural angles. It had antlers like a deer and a humanesque face, long sharp fangs protruding from its mouth. Both eyes glowed in the moonlight, but one was milky and the other almost black. Its skin was covered in scars and wounds― almost like someone had recently set fire to it. As it got closer Peter could hear its rattling breath and smell decaying and burned flesh.  
Peter was suddenly painfully aware how much he didn’t want to die, but, like everything else as of late, he wasn’t being given a choice. The beast suddenly stopped a few feet from Peter and crouched low to the ground, turning its head to side. Suddenly a faint sound of singing emerged from the woods, and a light appeared in the distance, a lantern perhaps, swinging as the holder sang into the trees. It took Peter a moment to realize he had heard the song somewhere, he couldn’t remember where. It was Russian, and the voice singing was deep and apparently completely unaware of the danger only feet from him. Peter was running out of options and with the last of his energy let out a scream.

“Help! Help, please help me!”

The Beast let out a loud screeching roar and made a move toward him before light suddenly flooded over them both and the man stepped between them. He was tall and scruffy, and he had long dark hair that was all Peter could see from behind him. The beast looked even more terrifying in the light, its skin red and and freshly burned in some places, but black and charred in others, its mismatched eyes clearly visible and muscle falling off the bone and hanging off its ribs and legs and face. It hissed and growled at the light and the man holding it, but made no moves forward. In fact it was actually backing away into the dark of the woods, and a moment later Peter could no longer see it. The man turned around and glared down at Peter, his blue eyes hard and his lips pulled tight.

“What the fuck are you doing here you stupid kid?! Don’t you know the forest is dangerous, especially at night!”

“I’m sorry,” Peter started, he was starting to feel funny and dizzy, the man swimming in and out of focus, his body oscillating from excruciating pain to numbness, “I’m just-just passing- passing out..no through- I’m passing through.”

The last things he registered before darkness overcame him were the sight of the man’s worried face and the sound of his string of swears, then feeling strong arms pick up as if he were made of nothing.

**Author's Note:**

> the song Bucky is singing is a Russian Lullaby called 'Bayu Bayushki Bayu' and I'm obsessed with it!


End file.
